Sleeping Beauty Awakens
by Slightly Obsessed
Summary: SEQUEL TO GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BACHELORS. Lizzie continues to see life as a fairy tale. The guys'dinner party gets out of hand, with an evil stepsister and firebreathing dragons. Will Gordo come to the rescue as Lizzie's Prince Charming? COMPLETED


_First, I must say my thanks go out to Kalandiangal4ever and an anonymous reviewer for requesting more to "Goldilocks and the Three Bachelors." When I wrote it, it was strictly a one-shot, but you inspired me to wonder if there couldn't be some way to go on with this idea. So I dreamed up the story you are about to read, and hopefully it will be worthy, not just a lame tack-on._

_Also thanks to DoozleBean for some of the images and ideas in his/her story "Emotionless" which were an inspiration as I wrote this._

_Finally, to green aura and GFMarshall let me say that I hope to continue in a style that is "not too innocent and not too smutty" yet maybe just a little bit naughty. Hope you all like it!_

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"Why the heck are you knocking?" Ethan asked as he opened the door, giving the girls one of his famous crooked grins.

Lizzie and Miranda glanced at each other quickly, then gazed upon Ethan, instantly melting under the brilliance of his good looks and charming manner.

"Come on in!" Ethan winked. "_Mi casta iz tu casta!"_

The saying, Miranda knew, was _Mi casa es tu casa,_ but she was not about to correct Ethan Craft when he was inviting them into his home.

The first thing Lizzie and Miranda saw when they stepped into the small apartment was Kate Sanders, sitting on the ratty old orange couch in the living room, her legs crossed under her short skirt.

"Oh, hi…" Kate said lazily, twirling her long blonde hair. Clearly she would have preferred to remain the only female in this Bachelor Pad. The three girls were more friendly now in college than they had ever been in high school, but when it came to menfolk ---watch out! Kate could quickly grow claws.

Of course she had no interest in David Gordon or Larry Tudgeman, the other bachelors in this pad, but Kate was highly attuned to Lizzie and Miranda's renewed interest in Ethan Craft. She tapped her long painted fingernails on the end table, as if she was sharpening those claws.

"Hi, Kate. Hi, Tudge," Miranda said, noticing Tudge standing by the sliding glass doors that overlooked the parking lot. Tudge actually looked quite appealing tonight. He was wearing a black tee shirt and black pants, and with all that black hair, his blue eyes appeared exceptionally blue. Lately when Miranda saw him, she marveled at how well he had cleaned up since she first knew him. Sometimes she thought if you looked up "Late Bloomer" in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Tudge.

Lizzie greeted Tudge absently, but she had other things on her mind. "Where's Gordo?" she asked.

"Cooking in the kitchen," Tudge said. "Can't you smell it?"

"Of course we can smell it!" Miranda exclaimed. "And it smells great! But why aren't you and Ethan helping?"

"I made the salad," Tudge explained. "And Ethan's in charge of refreshments."

"A little wine, ladies?" Ethan said, suddenly reappearing with two coffee mugs, filled to the brim with something what was obviously not coffee.

Lizzie and Miranda giggled and took the cups. "Thanks," Lizzie said, and took her first sip of "refreshment" for the evening. She sniffed the air again and said, "What are we having? It smells like…"

"Like brisket!" Tudge explained. "Gordo called his grandma and got the 4-1-1 on how to cook it."

"Wow," Miranda said. "Gordo's grandmother's brisket…" Her mouth began to water.

"Clearly," Kate said, looking directly at Lizzie, "there is someone here tonight Gordo very much wishes to impress."

But Lizzie did not grasp the full implication of her words, because she was already floating into the kitchen, drawn in by the wondrous smell of brisket.

-

"Hey," Lizzie said.

Gordo turned suddenly from the sink, where he was peeling potatoes. His hair was wild, his shirt was stained, and he looked a little frazzled.

"Hey!" he returned. "So tell me, Lizzie. What do you know about potatoes?"

Lizzie knit her eyebrows in confusion. Was this another one of his game show trivia moments? "They're a root vegetable?" she tried. "You generally buy them in five or ten pound bags? Chief ingredient in French fries?"

"No!" Gordo exclaimed, wiping his arm on his forehead. "I mean how do you cook them?"

Now Lizzie smiled. Remembering a fun moment they had shared years ago revolving around a bit of dialog from one of the _Lord of the Rings_ movies, she now sang "Boil 'em! Mash 'em! Stick 'em in a stew!"

Finally Gordo loosened up a little, also remembering. He smiled, but then said, "No! Really!"

"No, really," Lizzie repeated. "You boil them and mash them, anyway. But why would you settle for stew when you can have grandma's brisket?"

She sniffed around the stovetop and found a pot of corm boiling away, but no water waiting for the potatoes. She turned off the burner for the corn and asked, "Is the brisket ready?"

"It's been ready," Gordo said. "Everything's ready, I'm just trying to figure out what to do with these potatoes!"

"Oh, Gordo, Gordo, Gordo," Lizzie sighed. "Potatoes before vegetables! Didn't your mother teach you anything? Honestly! You're helpless in the kitchen."

She searched through the cabinets until she found two medium sized pots, which she filled with water and set on the burners. "Take the brisket out of the oven," she instructed. "We don't want it overdone. And give me that peeler. I'll peel, you cube. Small cubes."

"Why small?" Gordo asked, grabbing a knife.

"You're the brainiac!" Lizzie teased. "Can't you figure it out?"

As he cut the potatoes, Gordo thought about it then said, "Because increasing the surface area will cause the potatoes to cook faster."

"Bingo!" Lizzie grinned at him. "Practical application of scientific principles. It's not all just about acing your exams, Einstein."

-

With Lizzie's help, dinner was ready in no time, and the six friends sat down around the dining room table, which had been covered with a Power Rangers sheet Ethan had brought from home. They ate off plastic plates, the candles were left over from Christmas, and the wine was served in coffee cups, most of which displayed corny sayings like "I Hate Mondays!" and "Don't Ask Me, I Just Work Here." But the wine never stopped, the food was delicious, and the overall ambiance was better than anything found in the fanciest restaurant in town.

The school term has begun only a few weeks ago, so a major topic of conversation among these college students was their new classes. Lizzie listened to all her friends, enjoying their stories and their voices, but at the moment feeling herself beginning to succumb to the pleasant numbness brought on by her second mug of wine. She would have been content to sit there all evening, eating and listening with a big goofy grin on her face, but eventually Gordo asked her, "So, Lizzie. What's your favorite class this term?"

Lizzie refocused. Her favorite class…She took a deep sigh and heard herself say, "I like Professor McDonald."

"Who is that?" Kate asked.

"Corbin McDonald!" Miranda exclaimed. "I like him too!"

"Is he hot?" Kate wondered.

"No!" Lizzie exclaimed, then, "Well, not really. Actually, he is…kind of. In an older man kind of way….in a professor with a ponytail and suede elbow patches on his cordaroy jacket kind of way…"

Ethan smirked. "That's hot? Courdaroy?"

"But he _is_ hot!" Miranda exclaimed enthusiastically, also feeling the wine. "Sort of. I mean, he's okay to look at, I guess, but his brain. It's so… it's so…"

"So _big_?" Ethan provided, raising his eyebrows.

Everybody laughed, even Lizzie, but then she decided she was not going to let her favorite professor be ridiculed like that.

"No, no!" she insisted, feeling her head spinning a little. "He really is so smart. And the things he says, they're so…they're so…"

"So _deep_?" Ethan quipped, hoping for another round of laughter, which he readily received.

"Oh, stop!" Lizzie cried. "You're making fun of him, but you really shouldn't. He's so smart, and so good."

"What does he teach?" Gordo asked, trying to get the conversation back on track, since he could tell Lizzie was beginning to feel frustrated.

Lizzie sat still for a moment, then she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

Miranda laughed too, then answered for Lizzie. "Children's Literature! He teaches Kiddie Lit!"

"Kiddie Lit" probably would have gotten a chuckle or two during a more sober moment, but thanks to the wine, everything seemed absolutely hysterical at this point. It was a while before the laughter died down, then Tudge said, "Okay, okay. Let's hear from Lizzie. Tell us something about Kiddie Lit. I want to know. What is the purpose of studying Children's Literature. Lizzie?"

Lizzie sat back, feeling totally on the spot. Everybody was looking at her. She glanced at Miranda for help, but Miranda was scraping up the last of the gravy from her empty plate.

"Well, it's like this," Lizzie began. "Professor McDonald says that all of life's most integral experiences are represented in the stories that we learn as children. The fairy tales of old persist to this day because the…the deep psychological issues addressed in these stories are not specific to any particular time period or socio-economic environment. They are timeless tales that will always mirror the human condition."

By this time Lizzie's head was really spinning. She looked to Miranda and asked, "Did I say that right?"

Miranda looked up from her plate. "Sounded good to me."

"Now what kind of stories are we talking about here?" Tudge wondered. "Do you mean your basic Disney animated features? Snow White? Cinderella? Sleeping Beauty?"

"Yes, those of course!" Lizzie exclaimed, warming to her topic. "And the other, simpler tales, like…like Little Red Riding Hood…Chicken Little…"

"Goldilocks and the Three Bears," Miranda grinned mischeviously.

All at once Lizzie went scarlet, remembering her recent dream, in which each of these three bachelors had provided a bed for her to try out, until at last she found the one that was "just right." Gordo's bed was just right. She happened to glance now at Gordo, who by the way was watching her intently, and she felt her face burning up with embarrassment.

"And other ones too," she said, trying to smooth over the awkward moment. "Stories like The Three Little Pigs…The Three Little Kittens…"

Ethan leaned back in his chair, stretching out his arms, one behind Kate, the other behind Miranda, but his gaze was directly upon Lizzie as he said, "Gentlemen, I think we have our own three little kittens right here…"

Miranda gasped, drunk enough to hear the deeper implication in his voice.  
"And what does that make you guys?" she wondered. "The Three Little _Pigs_?"

"Wait a minute," Gordo said. "I thought we were bears."

Lizzie's head spun until she was able to focus on Gordo and say, "Wait a minute. Why would you think of yourselves as bears?" She wished she hadn't drunk so much! If her mind was clearer, she might understand why she found Gordo's words disturbing.

Ethan brought his hands back to the table, picked up the wine bottle and said, "Lizzie, let me refresh your drink. You're almost out."

"Oh no!" she insisted. "Please don't! I've had too much already."

"But I insist," Ethan said.

Kate was glaring, about to stretch out her claws. "Ethan," she said. "Leave her alone. Can't you see she's had enough?"

"Oh no," Miranda said. "Lizzie hasn't had enough until she throws up. Then she passes out."

"Miranda!" Lizzie cried.

"Well, it's true! Remember that time in twelfth grade, it was just before Spring Break---"

"I remember," Gordo said.

"I don't remember!" Lizzie insisted.

"That's because you were passed out for most of it," Gordo said.

Lizzie gasped.

"Well, let her have a little more then," Kate smiled, putting her hand on Ethan's arm. Then she actually picked up the wine bottle and filled Lizzie's mug herself.

"I'm not drinking it," Lizzie insisted.

"Oh, go ahead, sweetie," Kate cooed. "It is very good wine, don't you think? That's what you get when you leave Ethan in charge of refreshments."

"Only the best for my ladies and my pals," Ethan said.

"Here, here!" Kate said, raising her glass, and everybody else raised theirs, toasting "Ladies and Pals!"

With all the mugs clunked down on the table once more, Gordo revisited his unanswered question. "So which is it, anyway? Are we pigs? Or bears?"

"I'm not a pig or a bear," Tudge announced suddenly. "I'm a frog."

Again there was hysterical laughter, with a few "ribbits!" thrown in for effect.

When speech was again possible, Tudge explained, "If we have to be someone from a fairy tale, then I must be the Frog Prince. I may not appear to have much to offer at first, but once the right fairy princess comes and gives me a kiss, I'm going to turn into a wonderful prince and whisk her away to 'happily ever after' full of every material comfort and convenience, super success, and lots and lots of great sex."

The laughter that followed this remark was louder than any yet this evening.

"Tudge, you are so drunk!" Miranda exclaimed.

"I may be drunk," Tudge said, looking directly at Miranda. "But I am completely serious. What? You don't believe me? How about we give it a little test, Randy?" He pointed at his pouted lips and said, "I dare you to come over here and lay one on me, baby. And let's see what happens next."

More laughter. Only this time both Miranda and Tudge were not laughing, as they continued to look at each other across the table.

"Are you serious?" Miranda asked. She had always wondered what it would be like to kiss Larry Tudgeman…to kiss him, and maybe more…

"Sweetheart," he said without hesitation. "I am dead serious."

The laughter died down as the others could see that something was beginning to happen here. Suddenly, Miranda rose from the table, took her mug of wine and Tudge's mug of wine into the kitchen, dumping the contents of both down the sink.

"Hey! What was that for?" he asked.

"No more drinking," she said. "You sober up, and so will I. And in an hour or so, when we're both thinking a little clearer, we'll revisit the issue."

"Really?" Tudge asked in amazement.

"Yes, really," Miranda said, sitting down again, never taking her eyes off him. "If this is going to happen, it's not going to be a drunken fling. We're both going to go into this with our eyes wide open."

The room was suddenly quiet, until slowly Ethan began to chuckle. "Randa and Tudge-man, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

"We'll see," Miranda said. "We'll see…"

-

Lizzie felt a little uncertain about exactly what was happening. They all moved into the living room, and the guys turned on a video game, and the girls went through the CD collection, choosing an energetic Smashmouth, which they blasted on the stereo. Despite herself, Lizzie was still drinking from her mug. Her head was spinning, and she thought she remembered something about Tudge and Miranda…

"Here, you come play," Gordo said, reaching out to grab Lizzie's hand, gently pulling her down on the orange couch, in front of him. She was between his legs, and he had his arms around her, their hands together on the controller. He had changed into a fresh shirt before dinner, and this one made him smell country breeze fresh. And his hair smelled like…coconuts? She took a deep breath, sinking into the smell of him, but so much deep breathing soon made her feel as if she might actually pass out

The music was so loud, Gordo smelled so good, and as long as he was holding her, she didn't feel like she was spinning quite so wildly. But he was laughing in her ear as they manipulated the controller together, producing the giant flashing words "Game Over" on the TV screen across the room, which also pulsated in her head.

"You suck, McGuire," Gordo said.

She leaned her head against his arm. "Gordo…"

"Hey," he said, suddenly concerned. "You're not going to puke, are you?"

"I might," she said feebly.

"Okay, up we go," he said, gently lifting himself up from around her, then pulling her to her feet. "Let's get you in the bathroom---"

"No…no…" Lizzie said. "If I go in that small smelly bathroom I'll definitely puke. Let me go out on the balcony…some fresh air…"

"Hey, Gor-don!" Ethan said. "What about your game!"

"Oh, I'll play!" Kate volunteered, sitting down in the vacated seat and snuggling up as close as she could get to Ethan.

-

The patio was very tiny, barely enough room for two people to stand together comfortably amid a sorry collection of half-dead plants and old skateboards. Lizzie leaned over the balcony, looking down into the parking lot. Gordo stood beside her, saying, "Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie…"

"I think I had a little too much to drink," Lizzie admitted.

"I think you did," Gordo agreed. He took the mug clenched firmly in her hand and spilled the pretty bright liquid over the side of the balcony, into the bushes below.

"What are you doing?" she asked. For a moment all she could think of was how Miranda had dumped Tudge's drink, saying when they were sober they would see what might happen. Was Gordo's gesture saying the same thing to her?

"That's enough for tonight," Gordo said. "If you're lucky, you'll hurl, and then I can give you some Tylenol to soften how bad you're going to feel in the morning. And then you can sleep."

"Sleep…" Lizzie said dreamily.

"Not yet," Gordo said. "I'm not going to have you throwing up in my bed."

Lizzie tried to make sense of this, and was finally able to ask, "Who says…I'm sleeping in your bed?"

"Well, where else am I going to put you? Look at Tudge and Miranda. In a short while, they're going to be quite busy. And Kate's pretty much got her claws into Ethan."

"Kate…" Lizzie said, with a vague recollection of how many times that girl had topped off her mug of wine. "What has she got against me?"

"Nothing," Gordo said. "She just wanted to make sure you were out of commission so as not to destroy her chances with Ethan. He's been giving you the eye all evening. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"The eye?" Lizzie said.

"Sure. Don't tell me you hadn't noticed."

"I hadn't noticed," Lizzie said.

Gordo sighed. "Not surprised," he commented. "You know, sometimes you really are clueless, Lizzie McGuire."

Now what did that mean? Why all these trick questions? Why wouldn't her head stop spinning? And he thought she was going to sleep in his bed? What else was he thinking?

"You know…" she said, then repeated with difficulty, "You know…there's no reason why I can't…can't sleep on the couch."

"Sure," Gordo said. "If you don't mind waiting till three o'clcok in the morning."

There he went again with the trick questions. "Gordo…"

"Well, look at it," he said, nodding towards the living room behind them.

Lizzie turned and gasped. "Where did all those people come from?"

"Neighbors," Gordo said. "They heard the music and figured there was a party going on."

"When did this happen?" Lizzie asked. "We only just got out here."

"Lizzie, we've been out here almost an hour," Gordo said patiently.

A Twilight Zone moment. "No…"

"Yes," Gordo said.

"Did I pass out?" she wondered.

"No, but you must have zoned out."

Lizzie's stomach was suddenly churning more violently than before. An hour of her life gone…she thought And then what was that business with thinking 'Twilight _Zone_' and five seconds later Gordo says '_zoned_ out.' Oh man! Her head was spinning, her stomach churning---

"Okay, okay," Gordo said, seeing what was happening. "Head over the side. Let it out, Liz. Let it out…"

But she was not going to vomit in the bushes. There were people in the parking lot below, and she was not going to let them see her splattering the beautiful bushes with the remnants of corn, mashed potatoes and the most delicious brisket she had ever eaten.

Instead, she bolted back into the house, weaving her way through the crowd, crashng against the wall, falling against the bathroom door---

Gordo was right behind her, lifting her up as he pounded on the bathroom door, yelling, "Hey! Emergency! Out of the bathroom!"

He tried the door and found it unlocked. He pulled Lizzie into the bathroom, past Kate who was primping in the mirror, and lifted the toilet seat. Lizzie fell to her knees and hurled into the bowl while Gordo stood over her, holding back her beautiful long hair.

Kate looked at them. "Oh, that's attractive," she sneered as she continued applying a fresh layer of lipstick.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," Gordo recited sarcastically. "Don't worry, Kate, You're still the fairest one of all."

Kate pursed her perfect lips and made a small noise of disgust. "As if I ever doubted!"

-

When Lizzie was done hurling, Gordo made her wash her mouth out at the sink, then patted her face dry with a towel. She was crying, her face red and swollen. "That was so embarrassing," she bawled. "And I feel so awful. Did Kate see me?"

"Don't you even worry about Kate," Gordo said tenderly, pushing back her hair. "Don't you worry about anything. Now you're going to get some sleep."

It has felt good to vomit, but it left her weak, so she had no strength to resist when Gordo walked her across the hall and opened his bedroom door. In here it was cool and quiet. Well, not exactly quiet, because even with the door closed, the insistent bass beat of the music and the rowdiness of the party in the next room could still be heard, yet not as strongly. Lizzie put her head on the pillow, sinking in, falling down, down into sleep…

"Not yet," Gordo said. "You've got to stay awake for two more minutes. I'll be right back."

Lizzie was aware that Gordo left the room, and now here she was alone, on his bed, surrounded by all his stuff. So cool, and so quiet…and everything so Gordo…She felt herself falling even further…

And then she felt herself being lifted up. Gordo was beside her on the side of the bed, his hand behind her back, making her sit up.

"Here, take this," he said, handing her two pills.

"What is it? Are you trying to drug me?"

He laughed lightly. "It's Tylenol," he explained. "If you take it now, when you wake up in the morning it won't be so bad." He handed her a mug and she recoiled.

"No, it's water," he said, laughing a little more. "With ice cubes. It will be good. Take the Tylenol."

So Lizzie did what she was instructed, because Gordo seemed to know what he was talking about and seemed to only have her very best interest at heart. Oh, he could be so wonderful! He was taking such good care of her tonight. Her heart began to fill with love for him.

Was that love? Or was it still the wine?

"Now you're going to sleep," Gordo said. "I'll come by to check on you and make sure nobody is bothering you. But first you need to get out of that shirt."

"Why?" she asked, wondering if now that he had her in his bed he was slowly going to try to talk her out of her clothes.

"Because I noticed when I came back into the room just now that you've got a little vomit on the front, and I don't really want that in my bed."

Ugh! Gross!" Lizzie exclaimed, feeling all clammy and horrible.

"I have a tee shirt you can wear," Gordo said, getting off the bed and walking across the room to the chest of drawers. By the time he turned around he saw that Lizzie had unbuttoned her shirt and was trying to slip out of it without touching it.

"Where?" she asked. "Where is the vomit?"

Gordo stood paralyzed for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of her silky white bra, which seemed to glow in the moonlight that was attempting to penetrate the window blinds. As she continued struggling to slip out of her dirty shirt, and more and more skin was exposed, Gordo felt himself getting hard.

"Gordo, help me!" Lizzie insisted, her shirt falling off her shoulders.

_Oh my God…_ he thought to himself. _Oh my God…_

What he finally did, after a deep breath, was come over to the bed and help her pull the shirt off her arms. He walked the shirt over to his laundry basket on the other side of the room. He wondered if he might now turn around to see Lizzie struggling to unclasp her bra. And he wondered if she did, how he was going to be able to control himself.

But in fact she had fallen back on the pillows, apparently content to sleep here in her bra and blue jeans. Gordo watched her for several minutes, getting used to the sight of her, until finally he felt the pressure subsiding a bit within his own blue jeans.

His original intention had been to go back out to the party. So far, he had spent the whole evening with Lizzie. As much as he enjoyed that --- despite her being drunk and disorientated and vomiting---he knew it would be rude to completely ignore his new neighbors, who had been hospitable enough to bring over additional "refreshments" of every kind.

Yet a part of him wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with Lizzie and curl up behind her, his arms around her bare midriff, possibly his hands caressing the silkiness of her bra. Oh, that would be sweet…

But he knew too well what that would lead to, and he wasn't going there with Lizzie while she was in this state. Miranda had earlier poured out the wine for both herself and Tudge, saying she did not want a drunken fling, she wanted them to go into this with their eyes wide open. Gordo wanted the same thing for him and Lizzie.

It would be easy, oh so easy, to lay down with Lizzie now and fulfill his most basic fantasies about her. At the very least he could relieve this pressure which was starting up again inside his body. But he didn't want anything he had with Lizzie to be just about bodies. He wanted her awake and alert, knowing full well what she was doing and wanting him as much as he wanted her.

Sighing, with difficulty, Gordo went to the closet and pulled down a folded bedsheet. He fluffed it out and let it fall gently on top of the sleeping beauty. He would be in the next room, keeping watch on the hallway, should he suspect anyone might try to enter her sleeping chamber and attempt to molest her. He would watch, and he would protect. And when the time was right, he would return, and awaken her with a kiss…

-

In the meantime, he had to leave her. He went back out to the party. He greeted his neighbors. He partook of some refreshments, but not too many, because he could not afford to have his mind clouded for too long. Everybody, it seemed, wanted his company tonight. Hey, come play this game with us! Hey, have a drink! Have a hit! Come outside! There's a girl I want you to meet.

He played the games, he went outside briefly, but after a while he did not drink anymore, nor did he smoke, and he certainly was not interested in meeting any new girls. Every now and then he peeked into his bedroom at the beauty sleeping there, and felt calm and happy to have her there.

At two a.m. the cops knocked on the door. They were being too loud, someone complained, could they keep it down? After that, the party switched into a lower gear. The music went down to a whisper, the lights were dimmed, it seemed almost everyone was coupling off. Gordo looked, but Tudge and Miranda were nowhere to be found, and he realized with a smile that it had been hours since he had seen them. Ethan and Kate were also mysteriously absent, except for the moans and cries coming from behind Ethan's bedroom door.

Gordo realized he was the host, and he had to be present for his guests, though more than anything he wished they would all leave. Now it was three o'clock, now it was four. The crowd had thinned somewhat, but still there were so many orange spots in the darkness, rising up through a cloud of sweet smelling smoke. His mind faltered, sleepy, and he imagined each glowing point as the breath of a fire-breathing dragon he must slay before he could complete his quest to find his way back to the princess.

Finally, the time for being polite was over. It was a quarter after five, and Gordo all but pushed the few remaining stragglers out the door. He locked the house up tight. So quiet! And what a mess! But that didn't matter now. They would all deal with that in the morning…or rather, probably, in the afternoon. Gordo didn't care. All he cared about now was getting back to his princess.

-

Gordo stepped lightly into his bedroom, the sleeping chamber of his princess.

"Who's there?" Lizzie asked in a small voice, turning on the bed.

Gordo leaned over her, gazing at her. "It's me," he whispered. "Prince Charming."

Lizzie smiled up at him. "Gordo…"

They looked at each other in the cool, darkened room. This was their moment, the moment when fantasy met reality, the moment when fairy tales come true.

Gordo leaned in and kissed Lizzie gently on the lips. His lips lingered as his mouth parted hers.

"What are you doing?" Lizzie whispered.

"Wakening you with a kiss, Sleeping Beauty."

"But I'm already awake," Lizzie said.

"No, you're not," Gordo replied gently. "You may think you are, but you're really not, because all this time you've only been dreaming about me."

"What makes you think I've been dreaming about you?" Lizzie wondered. Her head felt better than she thought it would, all things considered, but Gordo's words now confused her.

"The other day in the campus café," he confessed. "I actually heard a little more of your conversation than I let on."

Lizzie gasped.

"And then, the next day, I asked Miranda about it."

"And she told you?" Lizzie asked indignantly.

"It's Miranda," Gordo said. "What would you expect?"

"I'm going to kill her!"

"Don't kill her," Gordo said. "Instead you should thank her. Because now that I know you've been dreaming about me, I finally got up the nerve to give you the kiss that is going to wake you from your self-imposed slumber."

Lizzie felt her head spinning again, but this wasn't like earlier, this had nothing to do with wine. She stared at him, feeling a bit more awake than before. At least, and at last, she could feel her heart beating.

"And was that it?" she asked. "The kiss you just gave me? Was that the kiss that is going to wake me from my slumber?"

"No," he said. "This is." Then he leaned in a second time, and now as his mouth found hers, her mouth was already open, waiting for him, inviting him in, tongue to tongue. Her arms came up around his back, pulling him closer on top of her.

As they kissed passionately for many long, unbearably sweet moments, soft, low moans of pleasure were exchanged. These sounds were nothing like those coming from Ethan's room. But that would come later.

One thing at a time.

Right now, Gordo pulled himself up on the bed, and Lizzie lifted the sheet, inviting him in against her body. He curled up against her, his arm around her bare midriff, his hand caressing the silkiness of her bra. He snuggled his face in the crook of her neck and closed his eyes.

"While I was sleeping," Lizzie said, "I kept sensing that someone was coming into the room now and then, as if to check on me. Was that you, Gordo?"

"That was me," he whispered. "I came in and watched you sleeping, Lizzie. You're so beautiful when you're sleeping."

Lizzie wrapped her arms fully around her Prince Charming and they shared another kiss, even more intense than the one before. Gordo felt her body awakening against his, even as he felt every part of his own body rising up to meet the new adventure than lay ahead for him and Lizzie.

She looked him fully in the face, her eyes shining with the first light of dawn that was just now beginning to filter through the window blinds.

"You're so beautiful when you're sleeping, Lizzie, " Gordo repeated, taking her face in his hands and covering it with dozens of tiny, good morning kisses. "But, oh Lizzie…Lizzie…you are so much more beautiful when you're awake."


End file.
